


Hyacinth

by artificialghoul



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, TG:re timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialghoul/pseuds/artificialghoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was the last person she expected to show up here, but the one she wanted to see the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hyacinth

Touka ignores the aching in her ankles and tries to focus on sweeping. It was a long day in the cafe -- longer than usual, and this was the last thing she had to do before she could finally, _finally_ call it a day.

She moves a chair to sweep the last corner of the room, but the sudden gentle _ting_ of the doorbell causes her to sigh. _Can’t they read the “closed” sign?_

She turns, already putting on a polite smile and trying to sound apologetic when she speaks, “Sorry, we’re --”

But the words die on her lips and she stands frozen in the middle of her cafe, staring at the doorway, and the last person she ever expected to see standing there.

He’s not looking at her. Instead, he’s shuffling his feet and watching intently as he scuffs the heel of one boot against the toe of the other. She holds her breath, waiting. But finally he glances up at her through his bangs -- cut so much neater than the last time she saw him -- and his eyes are a reflection of her own worries.

He’s as afraid as she is, she knows, but she can’t make herself speak. She tightens her grip on the broom in her hands and she still _can’t speak_ and she can’t stop staring because it hasn’t set in that this is really happening, that he’s really _here_.

He looks away, and she can see the slight glow of pink on his cheeks, the furrow of his eyebrows. She knows he’s trying to stifle his irritation, knows he’s irritated because he’s uncomfortable. It’s been so long, but she doesn’t even have to try to understand him. They still know each other in ways no one else ever could.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and she watches him, watches his gaze drift around the cafe. His features have hardened, she notices. His jaw is stronger, his cheeks have lost their baby softness. His hair is tidy, and frames his face well, no longer the shaggy unruly mop she remembers. He’s grown so much, and she thinks he looks almost like their father.

He clears his throat and looks back at his feet, and nods to himself. “Your shop looks… nice. It’s nice. You… nice job.”

His blush darkens and she finds herself smiling. He’s living in a different world than her, and he’s been there for years. But some things never change.

She leans the broom down against a table and crosses the distance between them, each step slow and purposeful. She watches him stiffen, but he stays put, stands his ground, and watches her too.

And then she’s standing in front of him, so close she can reach out to touch him. And he’s staring down at her and she’s craning her neck to look at him, and she almost laughs.

“You grew,” she says softly.

He snorts. “Obviously.”

She smiles again, and lifts her hand. She holds it out, hesitating. And still, he doesn’t speak.

“Are you here because of…” She can’t bring herself to say it. She knows she’s still working for them. He’s too wrapped up to be able to leave. Especially not now. Not with Hinami there too.

“No,” he says quickly, and his voice cracks. He clears his throat and tries again. “No, I just… Wanted to…”

_ To see you. _

The words hang unsaid in the air, but she doesn’t mind. He’s here for her.

And then she’s reaching out to touch him, and she fists her hand in his shirt. She feels tears pricking in the corners of her eyes.

He’s really here. She can feel him, under her fingertips. He’s here and he came for her and he’s not leaving.

She takes a step closer and pulls him against her, and his arms come up tight around her. She shifts, hugs him tighter, and she feels him shaking in her arms. He bends his head to rest his cheek against her hair. There’s a dampness on her cheeks and on her hair, and the silent sobs in her chest are echoed in his.

After what feels like too long and not long enough, she pulls away to look at him again. Her fingers trace his cheek and she smiles.

“Do you want some coffee?” she asks.

He nods, and finally manages to smile back. “Sure.”

She turns away, tries not to think about the way her heart clenches. He’s not going to leave, she tells herself. But the sound of his quiet steps following her still makes her breath catch in her throat.

He takes a seat at the bar and she settles herself into her ritual. The movements are second nature now, and she doesn’t have to think as she works.

He watches her make their coffee, chin propped up on his hand, and for the first time in a long time, she feels content. The worries -- about him, about what he’s gotten himself into, about what he’s doing -- they fade away for the moment.

There’s a feeling swelling up inside her, something she hasn’t felt in so long, she’d almost forgotten that there wasn’t always this hole in her heart.

She pours the finished brew into two cups, and pushes one across the counter for him. She watches him take a sip, and arches a brow expectantly. He rolls his eyes and takes another sip, but she only smiles wider.

Finally, he exhales, tells her it’s good, and she laughs because she doesn’t know what else to do.

But he understands, and he laughs with her, and that feeling grows. It’s something she’d almost forgotten, something she thought she’d lost so long ago.

It feels like coming home. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about these two and how there's not enough of them in the next chapter of Drop Our Anchors, and I wanted to write them and I wanted to try a new writing style and whoops this drabble thing happened.
> 
> I just love the Kirishimas so much and I want a happy family reunion, please.


End file.
